


With A Little Luck

by sunalso



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coffee, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fic Exchange, Hangover, Multi, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:00:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27292339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: After a night of celebrating, Fitz, Hunter, Jemma, and Bobbi realize just how lucky they are.Beta'd by Gort.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Lance Hunter/Bobbi Morse/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	With A Little Luck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StanningJay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StanningJay/gifts).



> _a/n: Written for StanningJay from the prompt Tattoo AU for the Final Mission RarePair exchange._

Fitz gingerly poked his temple with a forefinger. “I think my head’s going to explode.” He slumped at the kitchen table, cradling his head in his hands. That dimmer switch for the light over the table he’d been promising to install seemed like a much higher priority as brightness attacked his eyeballs. He hated being hungover.

Across the table, Jemma whimpered against Hunter’s shoulder. Hunter looked like he’d been run over by a bus. He swayed slightly in his chair.

Bobbi, standing in front of the coffee maker, appeared to be the only one not fazed by the bender they’d been on the night before. It’d been a well-deserved celebration, and Fitz had enjoyed himself immensely. They’d started at one bar, then gone somewhere with dancing and cheap drinks, and after that things got increasingly hazy.

Fitz did remember Jemma and Hunter disappearing at some point. He and Bobbi had looked for them for a minute before figuring they’d snuck off to shag, so he and Bobbi had found…somewhere, to shag as well. Then there’d been another round of drinks, and after downing those, he didn’t have much except that at some point he’d been sucking Hunter off, and that they’d all stumbled home. The sucking might have been before or after the home part.

“I think I fell,” Jemma said, her voice thankfully barely above a whisper. “My arse hurts.”

“Probably.” Hunter tried to pat her hand but missed. He hugged her instead.

Fitz squinted. Hunter had dirt on his arm. “Maybe you both fell,” Fitz said. He pointed at the dirt patch. “Or you two got horizontal when you disappeared. It looks like Hunter brought some of last night home with him.”

Hunter frowned at his arm. Jemma licked her thumb and aimed for Hunter’s arm.

The rich scent of coffee filled the kitchen, which meant Bobbi had gotten the coffee going. Bless her.

Hunter squeaked as Jemma rubbed at the spot. “Stop, that bloody hurts.” Jemma glared at him, but she did cease.

Bobbi ripped a paper towel from the roll, the tearing sound almost splitting Fitz’s head open. “Quiet,” he groaned.

She wet the paper towel in the sink before coming over to grab Hunter’s arm. “Oi, Bob, ouch.”

Bobbi didn’t look sympathetic. “You’re fine.” She went to wipe the spot, then froze. Bobbi leaned down. After a second, her shoulders started shaking. Her laughter filled the kitchen a moment later and Fitz grabbed his head to keep it on his shoulders.

“What?” Jemma asked, pushing at Bobbi so she could get closer to the spot on Hunter’s arm. “Oh no,” she said.

Alarm buzzed to life in Fitz’s middle, not a good mix with the nausea. “Is everything alright?”

“Hunter got a tattoo,” Bobbi said. Smirking, she straightened up and went back to the coffee pot.

Hunter wore a horrified expression. “I don’t remember,” he said.

“Oh no,” Jemma repeated. Then, with what looked like a great amount of effort, she smiled. “It is a lovely thought, Hunter.” She kissed his cheek.

Hunter’s pleading eyes met Fitz’s. “I don’t remember.”

“I don’t remember much after a certain point either.” Fitz scooted his chair around to be next to Hunter, who obediently held out his arm when Fitz gestured for him to. What he’d thought was dirt congealed into a shape when he leaned down. Hunter’s skin was puffy, which hopefully meant that the tattoo would look a little better when it healed.

Right now, the four-leaf clover looked like a muddy, grey-green eyesore. Fitz brought Hunter’s arm closer to his face. “B…F…J…H,” he read. “It’s us.” Fitz melted. It might not look pretty, but even completely pissed Hunter had chosen a tattoo that represented their love. Fitz let go of Hunter’s arm and snuggled against him. “I love you too.”

“It’s wonderful,” Jemma sighed. “You wanted us on you.”

Hunter nuzzled at Fitz’s hair. “I always want you three on me.”

“Well.” Bobbi hooked Hunter’s chair and pulled it back, dislodging Fitz and Jemma and making the legs of the chair squeal abominably loud on the tile. Fitz groaned in pain. In the next moment, he had a lap full of Jemma as she hurled herself against him. He patted her back. “We do all enjoy being on each other,” Bobbi continued as if she hadn’t just tried to crack their skulls open. “But unless you care for that tattoo it’s going to be even more of a mess.” She dumped a jar of Aquaphor on the table and brandished plastic wrap at Jemma. “Can you fix him up? I need caffeine or I might miss and wrap this around his head.”

Jemma took the wrap. Fitz grabbed her hips as she wiggled around to face Hunter.

They bent their heads together as Jemma whispered instructions for tattoo care to him and covered Hunter’s new ink. Behind them, Bobbi harrumphed and cursed at the coffee maker.

Fitz pushed the pounding inside his head to one side, choosing to focus on Jemma’s lovely back and rear instead. He brushed her long hair over her shoulder, carding his fingers through the dark strands as he nibbled at her nape. She somehow managed to smell delicious even after a night out.

He pulled down one strap of her camisole before working his mouth down to her shoulder to kiss her sweet, freckled skin. Fitz worked a hand under the soft fabric, caressing her side on his way up to cup her breast. Jemma made a pleased noise and wiggled against his rapidly hardening prick. If he’d been with her last night, he didn’t remember it, while he did remember his frenzied fuck against a wall with Bobbi and being all over Hunter. He missed his Jemma.

“Bob,” Hunter called. “FitzSimmons are going to fuck at the breakfast table.”

“Good for them, I need coffee.”

“No you don’t,” Jemma said. “This is doing wonders for my headache. Probably the increased blood flow.”

“Coffee.”

Jemma sighed, but instead of arguing, she leaned forward and kissed Hunter. 

Fitz trailed fingers over the bare sliver of skin exposed on Jemma’s lower back as he teased her hard nipple. As usual, she was right, his hangover did feel much better. He dropped his hand to squeeze her lush arse, only to nearly jump out of his skin as she yelped.

“Ow, Fitz. Careful. I’m bruised.”

“Need me to kiss it better?” Hunter asked.

“Maybe?”

Fitz stood, taking Jemma with him, and draped her over the table. Hunter grabbed the sides of her pajama pants and yanked them down to expose her rear.

A bruise marred one cheek, a bruise that looked suspiciously like the smear of dirt on Hunter’s arm.

Hunter squinted, then barked with laughter.

“What’s going on?” Jemma asked, craning her neck like she was trying to see her own arse. Fitz could hardly believe what he was seeing. What kind of terrible place would tattoo two very drunk people? With the same not-so-stellar clover?

Bobbi, mug in one hand and mobile in the other, leaned in and snapped a pic. She handed the phone to Jemma.

Jemma squawked. “Hunter, this is your fault.”

“Probably?” he said with an unrepentant shrug.

“Why would I pick there?” Jemma thunked her head down on the table.

“At least you can hide yours,” Hunter said. He took a coffee mug from Bobbi with a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“I like it,” Fitz said. He bent over to kiss the skin next to the tattoo. “But it also needs to be covered.”

Bobbi set her mug down and grabbed the Aquaphor. “I’ll do it. You two get online and find a tattoo parlor that has room for Fitz and me to get the same design.”

“Excuse me?” Fitz picked up Bobbi’s coffee and downed a gulp of the bitter brew—seriously, no sugar at all?—hoping it’d clear the cobwebs from his brain because he couldn’t have heard what he just had.

Bobbi fixed him with a glare as she dabbed goo on Jemma’s rear. “Fitz, are we going to let Hunter and Jemma be the only ones with, uh…marks, that show how much they love us?”

“No?” He grimaced and took another swig of coffee. “You do realize they use needles?”

Hunter rolled his eyes. “Chicken,” he coughed into his mug.

“Where are you going to get yours?” Jemma asked over her shoulder. Bobbi ripped tape for the plastic, she raised an eyebrow at Fitz.

“Oh, uh…”

“Cock?” Hunter said.

“Not if you ever want to see it again.” Fitz finished Bobbi’s coffee and set the mug aside. “I think here.” He tapped his chest, over his heart. “I like the idea of having it labeled with who it belongs to.”

All three of his lovers looked at him with warm eyes. It made his toes curl and his heart thump with joy. “Bobbi?” he asked.

She fixed the last piece of tape on Jemma’s rear. “I think here.” She tapped the back of her neck. “A weak point, it’d kill me to be stabbed there, or if any of you were hurt.”

That was a very Bobbi response, and he loved her all the more for it.

Hunter held up his mobile. “I booked you two for this afternoon.” He grinned. “I can hardly wait.”

“You just want to see me hurt.” Fitz pouted. He was teasing, mostly.

Hunter waltzed over, only wobbling and wincing a little. “No, I want to take care of you after.” He grabbed Fitz’s arse while waggling his brows.

Bobbi slid her arms around both Hunter and Fitz’s shoulders, pulling them into a hug. Jemma wiggled into the middle of the crush.

“We’re going to match,” she chirped.

Bobbi kissed the top of her head. “I know I feel lucky to have found you three.”

“I feel lucky we all made it home in mostly one-piece last night,” Fitz said, cuddling against Hunter.

“Agreed.” Hunter stroked Bobbi’s arm.

“I need to get lucky,” Jemma said.

Hunter grabbed her around the waist. “Perfect excuse to go back to bed.” He hauled her towards the bedroom. Jemma giggled and grabbed Bobbi’s wrist, pulling her along.

Fitz shook his head, then followed his laughing, shrieking lovers to the bedroom.

He knew he was beyond lucky. He was loved.


End file.
